


Doctor WTF's Answers to Questions You Always Wanted to Ask About the WhoVerse But Were Always Afraid to Ask

by Doctor_WTF



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Crack, Gen, Timey-Wimey, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-01-27
Updated: 2011-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-15 03:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_WTF/pseuds/Doctor_WTF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you have questions. Somewhere out in this enormous and strange and sometimes very beautiful universe we call home, there exists someone with all the answers. Unfortunately, you won't find any here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Questions Answered while Confusion Remains High

As you sit, fuming, in the soft plush seats of the Wyoming Theater of Flux you can't help but wonder when you should break up with the significant other that sits by your side. Anyone who thinks that going to see some one-person variety show in Wyoming is a great date is probably not the one for you. A one-person variety show? In Wyoming? While you're too annoyed to remember where exactly it is that you live, you're pretty sure that you'd never want to live anywhere as dull as Wyoming. What is there to do in Wyoming anyway? Does everyone just go to one-person variety shows between staring at cows and wishing that they were somewhere more exiting? Really, this date has hit rock bottom and the curtain hasn't even been raised yet.

And what a curtain it is. Yards of the most divine red velvet you've ever seen hangs gracefully from up above. If you weren't currently trapped by the lug head at your side (that you're going to break up with as soon as this is all over) you would be sorely tempted to leap to your feet, run along the seat arm rests (treading occasionally on a person's hand), and flinging yourself upon those curtains. You do your best not to drool in public as you imagine the force of your impact bringing those wonderful curtains to the ground. Tangled in that sweet, succulent red velvet you roll, purring like a cat, in its soft folds until-

Oh.

Oh dear.

Now you're all turned on.

While you're busy considering whether or not you need to go to the bathroom to deal with this new-found problem the lights dim. It is too late. You've waited too long and now the show is about to begin.

The curtains (oh sweet, sweet velvety curtains of life) part ever so slightly as the audience begins to softly clap. Whoever is about to appear has not yet entertained the audience and so they only deserve a grudging clap until they have earned their applause. Beside you, your significant other is clapping excitedly, a wide grin on their face. You're really starting to wonder if a break up during intermission would be too tacky when a person appears in the curtains' (divine curtains who to know is to worship) gap.

It is a woman. She's rather too plump and too short, but after noting it you try to put that out of your mind. Your New Year's resolution was to not judge people so much on their appearance after all. (Even though the mousy black and white skirt suit getup makes her look vaguely cow-like.) While the woman's face is young, you get the impression that she's quite old and not in that neat 'seen too much of the world' or 'born an old soul' sort of way. No, the rather young woman before you has worried herself into old age far before her time. Huge bags encircle her eyes as she stands before you in a sad, limp noodle sort of way. She smiles at the audience as the clapping trickles away and you wish that she hadn't. She looked much less ridiculous when she hadn't been smiling.

There is a microphone in her hand and she brings it to her lips. "Welcome," her tired voice says, "to Doctor WTF's Answers to Questions You Always Wanted to Ask About the WhoVerse (But Were Always Afraid to Ask)."

You're not quite sure how she did it, but the way she pronounced the initials W.T.F. sounds a bit like a name and you swear that you can hear her say the parenthesis. Strange.

"My name is Sofie Winters," she continues, "and I am the personal assistant to Doctor WTF. Please remember that the use of all sound and video recorders are strictly prohibited..."

And there goes your attention span. Blah blah blah. Will this show ever start? You can only hope that the show will start soon so that you can break up with the idiot that thought this would be a swell date ASAP. Then again... Doesn't your significant other have a magnificent set of curtains in their dining room? They're no way as wonderful as the lush red velvet curtains (you could write a sonnet for those curtains) that hang tantalizingly on stage, but still. Maybe you should hold off the breaking up until you can get your hands on those curtains and-

Wait a moment.

Did that Sofie woman say something about monkeys?

"Lastly, in the event of an emergency remember not to ever break the glass. It's all that is holding the vampires at bay. Thank you and enjoy the show."

Everyone in the audience claps weakly except that idiot of a significant other of yours who claps like Sofie had just finished delivering a work of Shakespeare. You can smash their dining room window and just grab the curtains, you decide.

The stage goes dark. There is the sexy swishing sound of the curtains opening fully (let me count the ways I love you, sweet curtains), and then a spotlight clicks on. Having never seen Doctor WTF before, you can only assume that the person being illuminated by light is the good doctor. Now what is there to say about Doctor WTF? You entertain the thought about changing your breakup story (and hook up with those stage curtains) into an amusing tale to share at parties and so search for something humorous to say about Doctor WTF's appearance. Tweedy comes to mind. Generic does as well. In fact, so generic is Doctor WTF that you immediately forget altogether what the Doctor looks like. This is a good trick, one that I wish I knew, especially since Doctor WTF is still standing before you.

Doctor WTF bows elaborately and shouts ominously into the microphone; "I... Am Doctor WTF." The stage lights come up revealing a comfy looking purple plaid easy chair which Doctor WTF plops down into. "And thank you for coming to my show."

The audience claps weakly again. Your significant other- Well, we don't have to report every little annoying detail, now do we? Just break up with that one-person variety show loving, Wyoming dwelling loser already!

"I imagine that many of you have questions about the wonderful world of the WhoVerse," Doctor WTF continues, putting red argyle sock clad feet upon a matching purple plaid ottoman. "Which is why I had those fish bowls and little strips of paper put out before the show started."

You look around at the other audience members, confused. What fishbowls and little strips of paper?

Your significant other leans in. "I asked Doctor WTF about the Face of Bo!" You resist the urge to start screaming.

"Sofie!" Doctor WTF bellows and the tired young woman reappears on stage with a fish bowl.

With a bit of a sigh, she takes her position beside the purple plaid easy chair. Sofie digs through the fish bowl stuffed with strips of white paper for a moment before pulling one out. "Alexandra from Springfield would like to know:

 **Which is the most attractive Doctor?**

"Ah, a difficult question," Doctor WTF said, frowning. "A most difficult question indeed. Well, I suppose I would have to say that the 23rd Doctor is the most attractive. What? The Doctor can't rejuvenate past 13? Balderdash!"

You shift slightly in your seat as Doctor WTF suddenly jumps up and begins to pace the stage, gesturing wildly. You glance around at the rest of the audience (not even bother looking since you already know that your date is going to be doing something idiotic) and find that you seem to be the only person not looking at Doctor WTF with a look of rapture upon your face. This worries you. Doctor WTF gives you that sinking 'sharks are in the water' sort of vibe and as WTF continues to gesture that feeling ups itself to 'and someone just threw in a bucket of chum.' You cringe back as Doctor WTF leers at the audience then decide that no one has been killed by a one-person variety show before (excepting King Kong's) so why on earth are you worrying?

"Here's a little secret for you all. The television program of Doctor Who does something that no other program on the BBC does. It makes money. Just think about the marketing! Doctor Who bedsheets, colouring books, and novels. Dalek vs the Doctor action figures! There's posters and collecting cards, and artistic TARDIS replicas. This show will never die!

"Yes, eventually, we'll get to the 13th Doctor's death but (and spoiler alert) at the last possible moment he will discover the Bracelet of Aman Ra-pidash (which can be yours too for 19.99!) and be able to rejuvenate for the rest of eternity or until the BBC stops making a profit.

"So why the 23rd Doctor? Well, considering that most of you haven't seen him yet, picture this. Imagine that Johnny Depp and Fabio had a love child. Take that child and breed it with the child of Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise before he got all creepy. Take that child and breed it with Don Draper and Bill the vampire's love child. Then take that resulting love child and breed it with those guys from Twilight and a MVP from this year's football world cup. The child that you end up with will be so devastatingly beautiful that angels will kill themselves since they're no longer the prettiest. This child, this beautiful child, is then placed into a blender and ground up for clone food because the 23rd Doctor is non-other then the clone of Alan Rickman, bitches!"

With a triumphant grin Doctor WTF collapses back upon the purple plaid easy chair and sighs deeply. The audience seems to sigh at the same moment. Creepy. "Non Alan Rickman fans, be soothed," Doctor WTF says cheerfully. "The 24th Doctor is a young Tim Curry and if you don't like him then I have nothing for you. Next question please."

 **Where is the bathroom?**

"Down the hall, second door on the left. You really can't miss it."

You notice that several people leap up out of their seats and race for the door, doing the 'Oh Jeeze! I Really Have to PEE!' dance as they go. As the theater door swings shut behind the last of them there is a bright flash of yellow light and the sounds of horrific screaming. You get the sinking suspicion that you will never again see those people again. It's a good thing that you never knew who they were in the first place then.

"This is the best show ever!" your significant other whispers in your ear.

Urge to punch, rising.

 **Which is the most attractive companion?**

"What," Doctor WTF says, "am I supposed to compare all of them? From the 1st Doctor right up through the 52nd? Do you people even know who all the companions even are?"

"I know I love them!" someone in the audience shouts. Doctor WTF glares at someone behind and to the right of you at which point you hear the sound of a trap door opening and the sound of someone falling into a pit of harmonica playing, angry alligators. While most would say that a person is unable to know what a pit of harmonica playing, angry alligators sounds like (besides, you know, the sound of harmonicas) everyone knows the sound that a person makes when being torn apart by said harmonica playing, angry alligators. Unfortunately, no screams were ever heard as at the exact moment the harmonica playing, angry alligators were about to devour their unfortunate victim, the person typing this up decided that they needed more coffee, got up, and completely forgot to finish writing this scene.

Makes you wish that they had remembered to get a Beta reader, doesn't it?

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted... Ahem. I don't think that I am going to have the time to go through all the companions of all the Doctors. Judging by the overall age of the crowd I doubt that most of you know who all of the companions were. Ooh! And I'll do the females only, because today I'm feeling rather sexist and we've already objectified our man for the day."

A drum roll starts from... Well, you're not quite sure where the sound of drums is coming from. It's a four beat tune that sounds rather familiar though.

"And here to help me judge is this installment's special guest... Emo!Dalek!"

The audience claps loudly at the mention of 'Dalek' and you find yourself clapping loudly along with. You remember the Daleks. You remember how they slaughtered your family, your beloved dog Skip, and the squirrels out of your back yard. Emo or no, there is no way that you're going to give that monster any reason to zap you.

YOUR APPLAUSE MAKES MY HEART WEEP! The Dalek whines as it comes on stage. It is a pure matte black with... Is that a wig? Yup. A wig with a shaggy cut covers the Dalek's dome though it has holes for the Dalek's lights. I WOULD CUT MYSELF IF I COULD BLEED.

"Thank you for coming, Emo!Dalek," Doctor WTF says conversationally from the purple plaid easy chair. Sofie takes a step back, eying the Dalek nervously. You don't blame her. If you didn't think that it would likely mean certain death, you would have run screaming from the room by now. "Now, what is your opinion on our latest four companions? We'll start with... what was the blond one again? Oh yes, Rose. Emo!Dalek, what do you think of Rose?"

SHE IS A TWO.

There is a long pause. Doctor WTF's smile is beginning to creep you out. It shows every one of Doctor WTF's teeth and makes you think that WTF is about to leap at the audience and rip someone's throat out.

"A two out of what?"

TEN.

"Oh my, a two out of ten. That's rather low. I always thought that Rose was supposed to be one of the prettier ones."

THE COMPANION ROSE IS PRETTY AND BLOND AND ALWAYS MADE FUN OF ME IN GYM CLASS. SHE CALLED ME ONE-EYE AND ALWAYS DROPPED FUZZ ON THE FLOOR TO CLOG UP MY WHEELS. The Dalek's eyestalk turned downwards. SHE TOLD ME THAT SHE WOULD GO TO PROM WITH ME AND THEN STOOD ME UP. IT BROKE MY HEART.

"Alright then. So Rose is a bit racist against Daleks. Got it. What about our newest companion, Amy?"

I SHALL GIVE HER A FIVE.

"Only a five?"

SHE REFUSES TO FRIEND ME ON FACEBOOK. SHE DOES NOT REMEMBER WHO I AM AND TELLS ME TO STOP MY FRIEND THE CRACK FROM STALKING HER.

"Fair enough. What about Martha?"

SHE IS AN EIGHT. MARTHA IS BLACK LIKE MY SOUL BUT SHE WILL NOT RETURN MY PHONE CALLS. ALSO, SHE HAS DARED WED SOMEONE WHO IS NOT EMO!DALEK. HER SPOUSE HAS BEEN SCHEDULED FOR EXTERMINATION!

Doctor WTF laughs lightly. "Better watch out then, Mickey old chum! Lastly, we have Donna."

A NINE OUT OF TEN. DONNA IS THE GINGER TO END ALL GINGERS AND THE WAY SHE YELLS SETS MY CIRCUITS AFLAME.

"So there you have it folks. To a twisted anomaly of flesh and metal, Donna is the most attractive companion. Moving on now-"

WAIT.

Doctor WTF blinks, looking puzzled. "Yes? Weren't you done?"

YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN THE MOST ATTRACTIVE OF ALL THE COMPANIONS OF THE DOCTOR.

"I... I don't think I have. We were only doing the female ones after all and we were only doing Doctors 9 through 11..."

YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN JENNY.

"Jenny? She wasn't really a companion per se, now was she?"

JENNY IS THE BEST COMPANION! TO ARGUE OTHERWISE MEANS THAT YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED.

"O... kay."

MY LOVE FOR JENNY GOES DEEPER THEN THE BLOOD THAT REFUSES TO RUN THROUGH MY VEINS. WE HAVE GONE UPON A DATE TWICE AS SHE BELIEVES IT WILL ANNOY HER FATHER AND MY HEART PLACE HAS BEEN SET AFLAME.

"Isn't that... nice?"

I HAVE WRITTEN HER A SONG.

"I'm sorry we don't really have time for-"

WHERE IS MY GUITAR! The Dalek bellows, ignoring Doctor WTF. Hurrying off stage, Sofie quickly returns with an acoustic guitar which she quickly bolts onto the Emo!Dalek. You and the rest of the audience holds your collective breathe as the Dalek moves its plunger to tune the guitar. I HOPE YOU ARE LISTENING JENNY. THIS SONG IS FOR YOU.

The Emo!Dalek takes a deep breathe.

JENNY-

and is interrupted as a trapdoor suddenly opens up beneath him, plunging him to his almost certain doom. There is a momentary pause and then the audience begins to clap wearily as the trap door closes.

Beaming, Doctor WTF takes a bow. "Thank you Emo!Dalek for those words of wisdom. Now, to continue on with our questions!"

 **How much wood could a Time Lord chuck if a Time Lord could chuck wood?**

"He would chuck all the wood that a being with ultimate control over time and space could if a Time Lord could chuck wood. Of course, in between chucking, our theoretical Time Lord would take plenty of breaks for waffles and sing-along songs, but that is besides the point. He or she would still be able to chuck a hella lotta wood."

 **Did Captain Jack ever hook up with the 9th Doctor?**

"Oh yes," Doctor WTF answers cheerfully. "In fact Captain Jack hooked up with every incarnation of the Doctor (including the old ones), their respective companions, the companions friends and family, all of Torchwood, most of the British monarchs from King Arther on up, and, unsurprisingly, your Mom. Recently I had the pleasure of obtaining an interview with Captain Jack and he had these pleasant things to say about hooking up with your Mom."

A flickering projector hums to life, lighting up a screen that you hadn't noticed being there before. Captain Jack, looking as handsome as you remembered from the Torchwood shows, appears upon the screen, a roguish smile upon his face. "Which one are we talking about again?" he asks someone off camera. "Oh yeah! Your Mom! Classy lady. Really, I can't emphasize enough about how classy she was. I mean I, like many of us, have hooked up with my fair share of people in my day, but even monarchs can't stand up next to your Mom when you compare them. That said, I was pretty surprised at the sort of kinky stuff that she was into, but hey." He chuckles knowingly. "More power to your Dad, right?"

"For full disclosure," Doctor WTF continues as the screen goes dark, "the other people that Captain Jack has hooked up with include your Grandmother, your gay Uncle, your straight Uncle, your Great-Aunt Susan, your cousin Bobby, your next door neighbor, and your brother Stu. Captain Jack has also expressed an interest in hooking up with you and has even gone so far as to offer to buy you a nice dinner first so please call him, darlings." Doctor WTF beams softly at the crowd before shrieking; "Next question!"

 **Cat! *wink* I'm a kitty cat! And I dance, dance, dance and I dance, dance, dance!**

Doctor WTF leaps up at these words, screaming: "It's the resistance! They've found us!" Together with Sofie, Doctor WTF leaps off of the stage, the two of them running for the back doors as if their lives depended on it. "To the escape pod!"

The doors slam shut behind him as your significant other sighs dreamily. "What a great show."

Alas, before you are able to start with the throttling, the roof of the theater suddenly opens exposing you all to space. Audience members scream and flail as they are torn from their seats and into the cold vacuum. For a moment it looks as if those red velvet curtains (you want to kiss those curtains) are to be one of the victims, but despite flapping wildly, those curtains are tougher then they look as they hang on for dear life. Your significant other is not so lucky. You watch, horror stricken, as your date is pulled into the void. "My God! It's full of stars!" you hear your date shout and suddenly you're not so horrified. Dying with that cliched line being their last? Eww.

Well at least you remembered to fasten your seatbelt so you're one of the few audience members to survive as the emergency doors close. You sit in your seat, preening a little at your own cleverness, winking at the curtains (you could do such naughty things to those curtains) when the trap door on stage opens. The survivors freeze. Who could it be now?

It is the Emo!Dalek . For a moment the machine floats above the stage, but then he settles and begins to tune his guitar. I WAS UNABLE TO PREFORM MY SONG, the grating voice booms. AND JENNY WILL NO LONGER RETURN MY CALLS SO SHE MUST BE EXTERMINATED. I WILL SING YOU ANOTHER SONG INSTEAD UNTIL THE PARAMEDICS ARRIVE.

You groan softly and sink into your seat. Another audience member screams and attempts to run, but with a shout of EXTERMINATE the person is vaporized. It looks like you're here for the long run. But at least this gives you more time to leer at those curtains, right?

WHY ARE THERE SO MANY (the Dalek sings)  
SONGS ABOUT RAINBOWS  
AND WHAT IS ON THE OTHER SIDE  
RAINBOWS ARE METEOROLOGICAL  
THEY ARE ONLY OPTICAL ILLUSIONS  
CAUSED BY LIGHT REFRACTING THOUGH THE NATURAL PRISM OF A RAINDROP  
SO WE HAVE BEEN TOLD AND IT IS THE TRUTH  
IF YOU SAY THEY ARE WRONG, WAIT AND SEE  
IF YOU DARE TO BE ILLOGICAL IN THE FACE OF SCIENCE  
I SHALL EXTERMINATE YOU INTO A TREE.

You clap because, really, what else is there to do?


	2. A Plot!? Here? Now!? Impossible!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back by overwhelming (or was that underwhelming?) demand, here comes the second installment of the Answers Trilogy that no one knew existed until a second installment was written! There will be a third part where all questions are answered, marginally at best, coming in the near (far) future! Until then!

So, there you are sitting, once again, in the plush seats of the Wyoming Theater of Flux. Hands around your knees you sit waiting, staring at the red velvet curtain as people file into their seats.

It doesn't make any sense really. Why would you come back here? The last time you were here your significant other was tragically torn from your side and lost to the cold void of space! Alright, maybe it wasn't that tragic. You had been planning on breaking up with that rock-brained twit before the vacuum of space did its thing. In a way you're thankful to space since it spared you the tears, the whining, and the late night drunk dials by your ex begging you for one more chance at a relationship.

But – and this is a big one, not unlike what your ex-significant other had – but you had been trapped after the show by an Emo!Dalek who'd strummed his acoustic guitar and held the rescue team at bay for 72 hours. 72 HOURS! The first 48, when the Emo!Dalek had been content to sing bad song parodies had been bad enough, but then he ran out of ideas and had just started talking! By the fifth hour of the Emo!Dalek rambling about how kittens made him feel sad, you fell into madness and were forced to gnaw a leg off to survive. Granted, it was your neighbor's leg, but he was a Cyberman! The dentist says your teeth are never going to be the same.

So what, what in this enormous and strange and sometimes very beautiful universe, would possess you to come back here, hmmm?

….

…..

Hey.

Are you paying any attention to me?

You're not, are you! All you're doing is staring at those freaking curtains and-

Oh.

Oh no.

You wouldn't!

You are.

You came back for the curtains, didn't you?

Ah, now you're paying attention! Well don't give me that sheepish grin! You're the idiot who came back over a bad reoccurring joke from the first bit! Why would you-

You brought a ring.

You're going to ask the curtains to marry you?

That's it. I quit! I'm not being paid enough to be an omniscient narrator for this load of garbage! I mean, coming back to certain death for a set of curtains! What sort of character motivation is that! And you haven't even given a name to the person I'm following at all! It's all you, you, you, you, you! That's not a narrative style, that's just an author who can't write for crap trying to be edgy! You'll hear from my agent about this!

 **_Beep.  
Beep.  
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep._ **

As the world comes back into focus you realize that Doctor WTF has already taken the stage. The curtains have been pulled aside and there Doctor WTF is, sitting in that same purple plaid chair smiling that same crocodile smile. You feel a shiver of fear run down your back as you wonder why you didn't take your chance and run when the previous narrator was leaving. Why did you stay? Don't you know what sort of danger you're in? You need to ru-

"Ahem," Doctor WTF coughs loudly. "Sorry about that everyone. Don't you just hate it when narrators go and quit on you like that? Makes you just want to," the smile widens, "scream, doesn't it? Lucky for us, I found a quick replacement in the Wyoming Theater of Flux's own Sofie Summers! Isn't that wonderful?"

It isn't the same name as before. Did you notice? My name isn't the same as it was-

"Sofie dear, there's no need to add your own commentary," Doctor WTF says, reaching for a fish bowl full of paper slips. "Just keep to the original plan and simply narrate things as they happen, alright? Now there's a dear."

After fishing about for a moment, Doctor WTF removes a paper slip from the bowl and slowly unfolds it. Adjusting the thin wire glasses perched on Doctor WTF's nose-

"I said quit it with the commentary," Doctor WTF snaps, glancing sharply up at something behind the audience. "Time for our first question!"

 **Who is the better executive producer, Russell T Davies or Steven Moffat?**

"Who?" Doctor WTF asks, face blank. "Now Davies, I've heard of him, but who is this Moffat guy supposed to be? I've never heard of him and he's supposed to be an executive producer? When did that ever happen?"

Doctor WTF looks down, pensively chewing a bottom lip. "Moffat. Moffat. Moffat Moffat Moffat. - MUPPET!

"I see now! A simple misspelling was the problem. Really now, whoever wrote this should have known better. It's not Steven Moffat, it is Stefin Muppet!"

You look around you at the equally confused audience members that surround you. "Who?" the Slitheen next to you asks in stage whisper.

"Stefin Muppet!" Doctor WTF bellows, glaring at the Slitheen who cowers in his seat. "You know, Kermit the Frog's long-lost brother! You see, our dear friend Stefin left the swamps of Mississippi at an early age to pursue fame and fortune in Hollywood much like Kermit did. However, unlike Kermit, Stefin is terrible at directions and so hitched a ride on the wrong plane and ended up in merry old England rather than the glittering streets of California. As he didn't have enough money to return to the states, this resourceful frog began writing television scripts to sell to the BBC.

"Trading scripts for flies is a tough living, but eventually Stefin prevailed and eventually worked his way up the ranks until he reached the position he claims today. At a salary of 70,000 pounds (of flies a year) he finds himself set for life and quite happy to continue working for the BBC on Doctor Who until they finally cancel the show. Which, if you remember our first segment, shall not be for some time."

 **What would the Doctor do for a Klondike bar?**

"He would swim all the vast oceans, travel from the beginning to the end of time, kiss a frog, dance a jig, smoke a hookah, marry a Dalek, run for president, kick a puppy, do laundry, find that library that keeps going missing in the Tardis, climb Everest (again), defeat Cthulhu, enter the Mountains of Madness, make out with the Master, moon the Queen, and end an intergalactic war resulting in the death of billions and the extermination of the rest of the Time Lord race. Which is the true explanation behind the end of the Time War, FYI. Some joker offered the Doctor a Klondike bar and he went a little overboard to get it. Destroyed the Klondike Bar along with Gallifrey too. The moron."

 **Which Doctor had the best sonic screwdriver?**

Sighing heavily, Doctor WTF sinks back into the purple plaid chair looking bored. "Not this again. Comparison questions, really? I mean, who else here has seen all 52 Doctors?"

A few audience members raise their hands. With a glare, Doctor WTF presses a red button on the armrest of the purple plaid chair and they are ejected, screaming, from the building.

"No one else? Thought so. Well, to answer this sort of question there are many different considerations to weigh. What did the Doctor in question use their sonic screwdriver for? How often was it used? Did it make a satisfying whirring sound when in use? Was it capable of actually screwing in screws? Did – Oh forget it!" Pouting deeply, Doctor WTF sinks deeper into the purple plaid chair. Drumming away on the armrest with busy fingers Doctor WTF, lips pursed, glances quickly about looking very annoyed.

"The Mark II screwdriver used by Three is the best because the prop department put a marble on a stick and deemed it awesome enough. Now on to more pressing questions. Why isn't this working? Sofie! Check to see why it isn't working!"

Reaching into the fishbowl, Doctor WTF plucks another strip of paper from the fishbowl and quickly opens it.

"What!" Doctor WTF yelps, looking surprised at the slip of paper. "But I didn't… I wasn't going to.. Sofie!"

 **Boxers, briefs, or something else?**

"Oh, so that's how it's going to be? Well fine!" Leaping up, Doctor WTF stands wavering for a moment before sitting down with a content look to answer the question.

"Content? I am certainly not content at all! Stop it Sofie! You just wait until we get out of here and then I'm going to kick your sorry butt from here to Hong Kong!"

As Doctor WTF's socked feet hit the stage once more, the trap door opens and Doctor WTF falls, cursing, into the abyss below.

You hold your breath, halfway torn between awe and mind numbing terror at the battle raging before you. With Doctor WTF plummeting towards certain doom, you realize that now would be a good time to escape. But those curtains! You simply can't leave them here, you resolve. From somewhere high up and far away a girl name Sofie says a very bad word that would get her in a lot of trouble with her mother if she had heard.

A grapple comes flying up. Muttering and swearing, Doctor WTF reappears looking very grumpy. "Not funny Sofie! Not funny at all!"

What Doctor WTF doesn't know is that if only questions were being answered instead of fits being thrown, there would be no need for trap doors to open and certain hosts of one person variety shows plummeted into them.

Doctor WTF sighs heavily and finishes climbing out of the trap door. "Fine. I'll answer the stupid questions. The best answer to this question would be something else. The Doctor, like many fine Gallifrians that came before him, wears the traditional underwear of the Time Lords. That is, a G-string thong. Picture the Doctor incarnation one in a G-string thong now. You'll never get that image out of your head now will you? You're welcome for that."

 **Cat! *wink* I'm a kitty cat!**

Doctor WTF stamps a foot and groans loudly. "And there goes the time. I hope you're happy Sofie! Another evening unproductively wasted when we could have made real progress this time! Let's get out of-"

 **What sort of toothpaste does the Doctor use?**

A great force drags Doctor WTF to the purple plaid chair, the paper slip with the offending question leaping into Doctor WTF's hand.

"He doesn't need toothpaste," Doctor WTF responds automatically, looking confused. "He's a Time Lord. No need to brush your teeth if you're just going to regenerate them before you can get cavities. Wait, why am I still answering questions? I said we're out of time!"

 **If the sum of the hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the square on the other two sides, why is a mouse when it spins?**

A panicked look is settling in on Doctor WTF's face as the purple plaid armchair's armrests are being gripped by white knuckles. "That's a rubbish question!" Doctor WTF sputters. "It's gibberish! And we're out of time. We have to go, Sofie!"

 **If the meaning of life, the universe, and everything is 42, than what is the question?**

"That's not even from Doctor Who! Sofi-"

 **Who is the woman in white?**

"-e! Stop it! Stop it So-"

 **Who blew up the Tardis?**

"-fie! I don't know the answers to these questions! You can't make me answer what I don't k-"

 **Who wants "Silence to Fall?" What is the Silence?**

"-now! Sofie please!"

 **Will you marry me!?**

For a moment everything seems to freeze. Doctor WTF blinks rapidly, confusion replacing panic.

You clap your hands over your mouth, horrified that you said that out loud at a moment like this. You had expected to pop the question over a romantic dinner and candlelight! The curtains waver slightly in the stage light, obviously taken aback by the sudden proposal. You two haven't even been formally introduced yet! What were you thinking? Even the narrative power of Sofie seems taken aback as she stops tormenting Doctor WTF with questions and suddenly falls silent, filled with indecision on what to do next.

"Who said that?" Doctor WTF demands, eyes scanning the audience. "It's impossible for any of you to speak outside of comedic moments meant to announce your own destruction."

You shrink down in your seat, palms sweaty as Doctor WTF's eyes skip over you. If Doctor WTF hasn't noticed you yet, you don't want Doctor WTF to start noticing.

Eyes still searching the crowd, Doctor WTF frowns deeply and grips the armrests of the purple plaid chair tighter. "And why would you ask me to marry you?" Doctor WTF suddenly blurts out, looking upset.

"No!" you shout leaping to your feet. "I wasn't asking you, I was asking the curtains! Sorry, but no. Never no. Never would ask you to marry me in a hundred, maybe even a billion years."

You instantly regret it. Doctor WTF's eyes latch onto you with a gaze that seems to pierce right through you into your very being. Blue eyes, cold and calculating, seem to pierce you as Doctor WTF points at you. "Who are you supposed to be?"

As if released from some sort of spell the audience suddenly screams to life. Cyberman and Daleks march through the crowd. Other species, too numerous to mention begin to shout and scream and squack and growl and slobber and moan. The Ood begin to sing. In the madness of the theater you stand, meeting Doctor WTF's eyes.

"Who are you?"

"What a beautiful day!" a new voice thunders through the theater, drowning out the panic of the theater.

Doctor WTF glances up, horrified. "NO!" she manages to shout and then collapses, screaming as she clutches her head.

Reality shatters like glass. The fragments twirl past you, suspended in the air, each one containing a portion of the theater as it was. Here is the eyestalk of a Dalek. There is the face of a human, contorted with panic. Screaming for the curtains which somehow still cling to the undamaged stage you throw yourself through the void of the theater that once was and reach out for red velvet.

The curtains reach back and you catch hold, two shapes in the nothing as the stage shatters and explodes.

"I'm sorry!" you blubber, dripping tears onto red velvet. "I just wanted to ask you to marry me. But I didn't want things to end up like this, I really didn't!"

The curtains understand. Enfolding you in red velvet, you hold each other as the shards of reality in turn shatter into smaller and smaller fragments. And then-

Vegas.

New Vegas to be exact.

25th century New Vegas to be really exact.

Still clutching each other, you and the curtains stare about you at the long line of casinos that border the busy street you've been deposited on. With a shout of glee you hug the curtains tightly and get to your feet. "We made it!" you shout. "I don't know how, but we made it out!"

As the sun begins to set you and the curtains begin to walk down the busy street, simply glad to be alive. "So," you say slowly. "I know that this may not be the time to bring it up, but… You never did say if you would marry me or not."


End file.
